


We're the Normal Ones

by Assassination (samstoleaburger)



Category: Left 4 Dead
Genre: Bad Decisions, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead People, Family Loss, Gen, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6596332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samstoleaburger/pseuds/Assassination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one would remember him.</p><p>There wouldn't be a funeral for this.</p><p>And he knew why, because within a few minutes, he'd be just like those people on the streets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're the Normal Ones

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a class I had in school. One I wasn't exactly fond of...
> 
> This is Left 4 Dead based, kind of showing how I saw someone possibly reacting to the end of days. Again, this was for a class and it's old. Like 2011 old. I fixed it up a little so, hopefully, it's tolerable.

Zane never thought that it would happen.

His friends had joked about it, sure. With how 'it would be so cool' if it happened. He glanced out on the street. The once so perfect street which was now infested with infected who were staggering about and running after people who were the 'normal ones.' Screams filled a small area of Nevada, a small area that once possessed the kindest of people he'd known since he was brought over from Austria. Now to be twenty-four and staring out in shock and horror upon the streets, on the crowds of people who were so kind to him for twenty years...

Mrs. Amands was clawing at her husband's eyes, blood dashed and poured onto the asphalt. Organs decorated the sidewalks while there were men with hoods over their heads. They watched the scene, crouched on all fours while screeching in anger and warning once an infected person got too close to their kill.

There was even one perched by his front door. Duct tape was wrapped around the person's biceps, their forearms and one was around the left wrist. The silver wrappings were even around the being's legs. He couldn't tell who these hooded people were, but they had to be from the neighborhood. One even pounced on his little sister and tore her apart before she could open up the door to escape inside.

Never again would he see her bright smile, those hazel eyes sparkle in the light that reflected off them, how he'd never feel those chocolate locks slip through his fingers when she wanted him to braid it.

Zane's trembling fingers grasped the boards nailed over the window, staring through the crack. He remembered how Annalise pleaded with him to cover all the windows the day before the chaos began. Saying that something was wrong and that he needed to be safe no matter what.

It was still a mystery as to how she knew when something terrible was going to occur and it always had the next day. Too bad she never predicted to be attacked while going to pick up groceries from the Pick 'N Save a few blocks away.

 _Why take her away?_ crossed his mind when he saw the attack and had no gun to save her. At least not within the confines of the house, it was in the basement, locked away. Never had he thought he'd need to pull it out sometime in this life. _Why not let her get inside the house, Annalise in my arms...safe...safe and alive._

He was supposed to keep her under his supervision and not let a single, filthy, hand touch her. His mother had given him those instructions - but thinking back on it, she was probably dead now as well or was within the ranks of the undead. That still couldn't change that he'd let his widow guardian down. Taking his hands away from the wooden planks, he took a step back, lifting his hand to rub his face, trying to figure out if this was truly reality or if it was a nightmare. If it was, he should lay off of the chocolates before bed. He knew, _he knew without a doubt_ , that this wasn't a twisted, corrupt, dream that his mind constructed just to mess him up.

Lowering his hand, Zane headed over to the door that lead into the small hallway within the house. His bangs fluttered about as he moved, his hand reaching out for his yellow-green hoodie and metal baseball bat. Gripping the handle, he turned it and pushed the door open, quickly holding the bat in an offensive position while glancing about with an observing eye. Slowly his eyes zeroed in on the clock hanging at the end of the hallway. His grandparents had set up a time when they would come over this very day, before all the madness had rung out into the streets. They would have been here in forty-five more minutes. At six at night.

Seemed as if that plan had been shot out of the water, with the chaos that had just sprung up from its hiding place.

Biting his lower lip, he turned the corner, quickly pulling back and pressing his back flat against the wall before peering around the corner. A man was in his house, staggering about, jaw cracked to the side while oozing blood and puss out of a ripped open wound, a cackling sound passing chapped, blood-covered, lips. Flesh sagged from under those dirty nails while some was stuck between his teeth. Narrowing his eyes, Zane then noted the piece of fabric the infected was holding and how close it resembled Annalise's dress. Gritting his teeth in a fit of rage, Zane pushed off the wall, darting towards the man, bat at his side before swinging it, a loud crack echoing throughout the house.

A screech soon caught his attention, eyes wide before turning around. All he saw was a flash of grey, the shade of grey colored in blood and guts. His eyes widened, horror-stricken at what he was seeing.

Saliva dribbled down this man's chin, his teeth crooked and yellowed from not brushing them in so long, dirt was smeared over his face and just having this up-close in his face was enough to make Zane want to gag and vomit. He'd dropped the bat during the fall, cursing as he glanced over for a moment to see where it went only to then regret it once he felt teeth sink into his shoulder. A surprised, pained, cry left his lips, clamping his eyes shut while thrusting his knee up to kick the infected off.

"Get...off me!" he shouted, gritting his teeth while his features were twisted in the utmost agony. Something felt as if it was attempting to pull him under and yet keep him afloat at the same time. Shifting his other hand, Zane placed the palm against the hooded figure's forehead, pushing upwards and away from himself. His hair soon stood on end once he felt the teeth cling onto his flesh as if for dear life before the pressure was too much, causing his skin to break and rip from the base.

Another agonized yell slipped before he latched his teeth onto his lower lip to silence it, least more infected show. Zane furrowed his brows, tears springing up in his eyes as pain alerted his senses, setting his nerves aflame.

And just as soon as the attack started, it stopped. He was released and the figure was gone from atop him. Panting, Zane slowly sat up and raised his left hand to rub a tear away from his eye, the blood staining his shirt and dyeing it crimson. Swallowing harshly, he was about to sit up yet fell back against the ground.

Darkness crowded around him, creeping from the outside in while he stared up at the ceiling, barely heard the screams echoing about upon the streets, the car alarms became nothing more than a purr in his ears. His senses shrank, slowly ebbing away at his mind, instinct taking control. Slowly he closed his eyes and placed a hand over his injury, even if the point of slowing the blood flow was moot. He breathed. In and out, in and out.

No one would remember him.

There wouldn't be a funeral for this.

And he knew why, because within a few minutes, he'd be just like those people on the streets.


End file.
